The Note
by GigiLuVe
Summary: Enjolras has never been fond of the female affection thrown his way. Yet, he finds himself strangely compelled when he discovers an anonymous note in his pocket. Who was the one to put it there? And, when he discovers the truth, will he then be able to convince her that he is indeed the one the note was intended for?
1. The Note

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Les Miserables, the novel or the musical, both of which are amazing.

 **Title:** The Note

 **Summary:** Enjolras has never been fond of the female affection thrown his way. Yet, he finds himself strangely compelled when he discovers an anonymous note in his pocket. Who was the one to put it there? And, when he discovers the truth, will he then be able to convince her that he is indeed the one the note was intended for?

 **Author's Note:** Hello! I am very excited, as this is my first Les Miserables fanfiction of this kind. It will take aspects of the musical/movie. I will preface this story by saying that I am a very big Enjolras/Eponine shipper. I am open to other people's preferences, of course, but that is my own. This story was just a little idea I had floating around. It will take place in the same time period as the novel is set, although I am not entirely sure whether or not I am going to have the battle looming in the future. I don't know I see this stretching on for too long, but then again not everything is completely hashed out with it. That's where you fine readers come in! I appreciate feedback and ideas. Let me know if you have a good idea for an upcoming event or interaction. Inspiration comes from the most unlikely of places.

For now, though, that is all. Please enjoy! And, I look forward to hearing from you.

P.S. I do apologize about the cheese of the note's contents. I am not terribly skilled at writing love letters and whatnot.

 **Chapter 1 – The Note**

The note read: _My heart beats for you and you alone. Meet me at Notre Dame. A kiss is forever on my lips waiting for you to claim it. Through the darkest night, through all of eternity, through Hell itself, I shall wait for you._

Enjolras blinked at the words a couple of times, confused and disconcerted. It wasn't as if he had never received a love letter before. In fact, he tended to find a few at least inside of his jacket pocket at the end of each day. It was just a curse that he tried to not indulge in.

Despite having read all sorts of words of devotion, this note haunted him. Perhaps it was the idea of a lone woman waiting in the dark of night for someone who might never show. He still considered himself a gentleman after all. He re-folded it and slipped it back into the pocket where it had initially been discovered. He peered out from behind the wall that offered him the slightest privacy.

Café Musain was nearly empty, anyway. Other than his friends, who were preparing to venture out into the darkened streets of Paris, there were two other tables. Granted, the place had been busy earlier. He supposed anybody could have dropped the note into his pocket then. He had had it hanging on the back of his chair most of the night, finding warmth in the wine he drank and the company of his friends.

"Come along, Enjolras," Grantaire called to him. "The night is still young."

Enjolras cleared his throat, composing himself. For one reason or another, he didn't want it known what he had discovered. He didn't want to laugh or roll his eyes over this one. He headed back into the main room, straightening his red coat as he went. He was quite sure that he would be found out. He felt his cheeks still burning and droplets of sweat still pattering his forehead. The best decision he could make was to play it off if necessary.

"Wait," Enjolras said, coming to a halt within their proximity, "where is Marius?"

Combeferre rolled his eyes. "I'll give you three guesses, though you really only need one."

Enjolras sighed. "Right," he muttered then led the procession out into the night.

Behind him, Courfeyrac and Combeferre laughed. They knew exactly what he was feeling regarding Marius' sudden absence. He wasn't afraid to say it aloud, even to Marius himself. It was always the same, though, and perhaps that was what they found so humorous.

"He acts as though he is bewitched," Courfeyrac mused aloud. "Perhaps his young lady is an enchantress."

"He is acting irresponsible," Enjolras corrected roughly.

"Love is irresponsible," Grantaire gushed. "It doesn't give you a choice, and it never has good timing. Yet, it is the sweetest thing you will ever know."

Enjolras' gaze fell on Grantaire, critical and wary. "Or the silliest."

"Just wait until you find love, Enjolras," Combeferre joked.

His finger swept by the note burning a hole in his pocket. "That won't ever happen," he explained coldly. "It is nothing but a distraction."

"Yes, but a very fun distraction at that," Courfeyrac chimed in.

"That's not love you're thinking of," Grantaire told him with a knowing wink.

The group of students laughed. Even Enjolras couldn't keep a smile from his usual pensive, stony face. It was typical for Marius to bow out early to pursue his current infatuation. It didn't matter where they were or what they were discussing, it always occurred. It was enough to drive one mad. And, for Enjolras, it did.

"For some more than others," Enjolras muttered anyway, under his breath.

He had been thinking mainly of the burden it had put on him, what with Marius being absent more than he was present now. Even when he was sitting right next to him, his mind was somewhere else. It was quite difficult to get anything done or to have an actual stimulating conversation. It was precisely how Marius had behaved that very afternoon.

"Now there's a tale of unrequited love," Courfeyrac mused, his hand going up to his heart as if in pain.

"What? What are you talking about?" Enjolras asked, turning his head in his friend's direction, actually rather confused.

"Why, 'ponine of course!"

His sapphire eyes grew wide. "Eponine," he breathed. He honestly hadn't even thought of her. Yet, she was a perfect example of the point he was trying to make.

"She's never going to give up on Marius," Combeferre said romantically.

"It is a waste of time," Enjolras grumbled, put off by the mere idea that someone could pine so devotedly and blindly after another.

"This is a waste of time," Combeferre corrected. "Enjolras is too cynical for this topic. We shouldn't pain him by discussing such things any longer."

Enjolras looked up into the overcast night sky. The moon darted in and out of passing clouds. Rain was imminent. It made him nervous. Not for himself, but for whoever had written the note nestled in his pocket. For whatever reason, he couldn't distract himself from it. He thought of the poor girl, shivering and alone, warmed only by the hope that her love would soon arrive.

He cleared his throat, ceasing immediately, even backing up a step. "Well, gentlemen, I am afraid that I must take my leave of you. It seems that I have another engagement I must attend."

Enjolras knew that this would rile them up. He smirked as the disgruntled feedback came. He held his arms out, as if to show his surrender, stepping briskly away from the group.

"You're delusional. You know your life revolves around us,"Combeferre was jesting, attempting to get him to stay.

"Goodnight, gentlemen," Enjolras said with an exaggerated bow.

He chuckled to himself as he strode down the empty street, away from his friends, who were still venting over his departure. They tended to roam from one haunt to the other, always starting with the Café Musain and ending up down the same street before breaking for their own beds. That particular evening, though, Enjolras just didn't feel up to going through the same routine. So, he headed toward the one place he couldn't get out of his head.

Even the rain, as it began when his feet automatically turned in the direction of the large cathedral, couldn't deter him from his path. He was very compelled to meet the person who had written the note, if only to tell her that she was naïve and going about this the wrong way. Whatever the reason he tried to tell himself, he was intent upon going to the destination.

All of the other love letters had been drab and unimaginative. Not only that, but they were all the same. They all confessed their desire for him and their admiration. He had grown into quite a good and influential public speaker, after all. Some had gone into detail on what would happen should they find themselves alone together. Behind each and every one, he could hear the empty giggles echoing in his mind. They were all typical; and, they were all easily dismissed.

Going over the passage written on the note, he couldn't help reflecting on how confident it sounded. It was so final, holding a delicate sadness and fragility, as well. He yearned to possess the same determination that was evident in the note. There was no doubt, no hesitation. The writer knew what she wanted and would not deter. It was rather invigorating to have such a purpose.

The shadows were thick in the square in front of Notre Dame. There seemed to be a million places this stranger could hide. But, he had never expected that he would have to search the girl out. He stood in the middle, glancing about sheepishly. He was beginning to feel that he had been set up, or mistaken, and was about to leave when a voice broke through the pattering of the heavy raindrops.

"You've come," it said softly, sweetly.

The feminine voice carried over the distance without a problem. Enjolras pivoted toward the voice, able to make out a shape in the long shadows cast by the parapets of the chapel. He refused to move, but he didn't have to anyway. The figure slinked within the darkness, drawing ever nearer.

"I didn't know if I would be seeing you tonight."

"You gave me no choice," Enjolras replied gruffly. "Was I supposed to just leave you out here alone?"

The female scoffed charmingly. "Many have before."

There was nothing he could say in return to that. He swallowed, hard, continuing to stare at her. He could feel his heart thumping against his chest the closer she got. And, yet, he hadn't even seen her face.

"Why did you bring me here? What do you want?" He figured if he got straight down to the point it would be easier for him to walk away.

"I suppose I gave my note too much credit. I'm not terribly good at writing such things," she admitted. "I thought that perhaps I could convince you that I'd be worth entrusting your heart to."

She sashayed ever closer. She began to leave the shadows behind, coming forward into the bit of moonlight that managed to peak through the thick clouds. It splashed across the ground in a single beam, separating them.

As the pale light poured over her, Enjolras slowly recognized the dark, matted locks and plain beauty. It was Eponine standing before him and confusing him even more than he originally was. She appeared drowned by the rain, but seemed perfectly comfortable in the conditions. She had come from the streets. They were her home.

"For, my heart is and always will be yours."

Her large, dark eyes flickered upward, landing directly on him, peering into his very soul. It caused him to shiver. Or, perhaps it was the cold rain. An expression of contentment rested briefly on her features, but as she recognized who was before her, her full lips turned down into a frown.

"Enjolras?" She crossed her arms over her chest, surprised and disappointed. "What are you doing here?"

His expression fell, as well, and he threw frustration back to her. "You tell me, Eponine. You're the one who invited me here, after all."

"I was expecting Marius, if you must know," she muttered, her cheeks growing warm with blush. She had become self-conscious.

"Marius?" he said aghast. He pulled the note out of his pocket and waved it in the air. "You mean to tell me that this was meant for Marius?"

"How'd you get that?" She seemed genuinely concerned.

"You put it in my jacket pocket."

She shook her head. "That was meant for Marius. I meant to put it in Marius' jacket pocket." Her hand shot out and she snatched the note from him.

Enjolras looked her up and down in disbelief. She had some gall. But, he had already known that about her. He was already familiar with her stubbornness and her fire. Yet, having it directed at him now, he wasn't so sure that he liked it. Everyone knew of her affection for Marius, and that she constantly did little things to try to get his attention.

He took a long stride forward, ending up practically in her face. "It is sickening the way you follow him about," he hissed. Immediately he realized that those words had been mainly to hurt her, and he could tell that it had worked.

There was a dash of pain that erupted briefly across her features. Her eyes grew wet, but not from the rain. She had to turn away. "You don't understand," she breathed, barely above a whisper. Then she scoffed, and he could hear a smirk upon her lips. "How could you? It is obvious that you know nothing on the matter. You don't know how one feels, how one acts. You don't know how utterly painful, yet invigorating it makes one feel." She shook her head. "And now, I am starting to think that you will never know. And for that, I am the one that feels sorry for you, Enjolras."

There was the flash of an idea. He didn't know where it came from or how exactly it had occurred. Perhaps it was supposed to be some kind of revenge. It didn't even make clear sense to him. And yet, somehow… He placed his hands gently on her shoulders and felt her tense beneath his touch. He leaned in close to her ear.

"You know, Eponine, you're right," he whispered. "I don't understand. I mean, you practically know everything there is to know about Marius, the love of your life, and yet, you somehow managed to mistake his coat pocket for mine." His grip tightened on her shoulders. "Now that doesn't make much sense, does it?"

He loosened his grip enough to allow her to spin to face him. She peered at him with skepticism, ignorance, and perhaps even curiosity. "Excuse me?" she demanded.

Enjolras grinned, his teeth sparkling in the darkness and shining through the rain. "You want me to believe that you meant for Marius to receive this note. You watch him constantly. You slip him these little pieces of paper every single day. So how is it, that this one time, you just so happened to place it into my pocket?"

She seemed speechless. "I…It…Y…" She had to clear her throat to regain her composure. "I told you it was a mistake."

"Was it, though? How do you know that you didn't actually mean for me to get it, Eponine?"

She narrowed her gaze on him. "Th-This is ridiculous. Let me go. I'm not going to stay here and listen to this nonsense."

He lifted his hands off of her. "If you say so, Eponine. But, just hear me out first."

She sighed, clearly impatient. Her eyes darted about, searching for a way out. She appeared like a wild animal suddenly caught in a trap. He knew he had to speak quickly.

"Perhaps you've grown tired of Marius and his blind eye. Maybe you're bored, I don't know." He stroked her cheek delicately, his fingers barely brushing against her skin. She allowed it. She never even cringed beneath his touch. "The heart is fragile. It can break after years of abuse, can't it, Eponine? Maybe you are actually saving that kiss upon your lips for me."

A moment later she swatted his hand away and stepped backward. "I will never have a kiss meant for you, Enjolras." A devilish smirk played at her lips, and she swung around to depart.

Enjolras watched her fade away, becoming one with the darkness. A small smile remained even after she was gone. He found great entertainment in the thought of swaying her from the one that she publicly had her heart set on. Despite what she had said, he still believed that her note hadn't mistakenly found its way into his pocket. He had seen a yearning in her gaze before she had moved away from him. He had recognized that look in her eyes that had revealed to him that all he had said had been the truth.

But, she was just like him. She was afraid of actually getting what she had always wanted—of what she deserved. She was afraid of admitting the truth to herself. It was something that neither of them would ever admit to anyone. They were one in the same. He just hadn't realized it until that moment. And, he found himself very intrigued by the notion that he had something so deep in common with somebody else.


	2. Reservations

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Les Miserables, the novel or the musical, both of which are amazing.

 **Title:** The Note

 **Summary:** Enjolras has never been fond of the female affection thrown his way. Yet, he finds himself strangely compelled when he discovers an anonymous note in his pocket. Who was the one to put it there? And, when he discovers the truth, will he then be able to convince her that he is indeed the one the note was intended for?

 **Author's Note:** Regarding the rating, I was torn whether to go with T or M. I went with T because the story will mainly be clean. However, I was expecting there to be perhaps a scene or two that might be on the verge of M. I just wanted to forewarn everyone, and I shall do so again at the time it becomes relevant, in case this makes a difference to anybody.

 **Chapter 2 – Reservations**

"Are you ever going to tell us what your prior engagement was last night, Enjolras?" Grantaire asked, eyeing his friend from across the table.

It was just after noon and still the boys seemed to be unable to talk about anything else. Multiple times already, Enjolras considered walking out. His mind wasn't in the right place to be able to conduct this back and forth with them. Yet, he managed to stick around. It was the hope that he might see someone in particular at the Café Musain that day.

"If I thought for one moment that it would benefit you to learn of my affairs, I would impart that information to you," he replied steadfastly.

Combeferre laughed. "There you have it!" he proclaimed. "How predictable! Enjolras can always be relied upon to be as stubborn as possible."

"And to ruin our fun time and time again," Courfeyrac chimed in.

"Where is Marius to save me from you lot?" Enjolras muttered.

Grantaire's eyes darted about as he raised a mug to his lips. "Absent, as usual, it would seem."

"That woman will turn out to be the destruction of him," Courfeyrac jested with a large grin.

Combeferre leaned in with a silly grin on his face. "But what a delicious destruction that would be."

There came another burst of laughter that Enjolras did not partake in. It was as his friends were sharing a laugh that their missing member finally appeared. Marius looked rather flustered, but joyous nonetheless. Despite the café being particularly crowded that afternoon, it didn't take long for him to spot their table and veer in the appropriate direction.

"Speak of him and he shall appear," Grantaire muttered under his breath.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," Marius greeted, taking an empty chair from another table and pulling it around to join his friends.

"A good afternoon, indeed," Combeferre replied slyly.

"You're a bit late today, Marius," Courfeyrac added. His eyes bounced from Marius to the others, as if awaiting some sort of signal to continue. "Did you keep late hours last night?"

Marius released a deep, longing sigh, leaning back in the chair, the back of which was the only thing keeping him from sliding to the ground in a puddle of ecstasy. "Aphrodite is but an afterthought in comparison to her beauty."

"Those are some passionate words, my friend," Enjolras said gloomily.

"Passion could hardly describe the way she makes me feel." His hand fell over his heart, as if it physically ached for him to speak of such things. "I never knew that Heaven could be found right here on earth until I met her. My eyes have been opened for the first time in my life. Believe me when I say, gentlemen, that never before will you have heard of a love story such as ours."

He was overflowing with romance. Luckily, Enjolras didn't have to continue to be subject to the hearts floating in his eyes. Staring beyond Marius' head, he spied Eponine ducking shyly into view. She managed to keep her distance still, but stared longingly at their table. Despite the natural shower from the previous night, she had somehow managed to pick up the filth off of the streets again.

Eponine peered over at Marius with a discontent frown. It was her daily routine to follow him, which often led to this particular spot where his friends always awaited him. She probably would have chosen to stay away, as the events of the previous evening were still fresh on her mind and didn't sit right with her. But, she decided that she just couldn't ignore it. After all, any day could be the day that he finally chose to see her.

Her eyes readjusted and she became aware that Enjolras was looking directly at her from where he sat beyond Marius. It took her off guard momentarily. Then her frown turned into a scowl, and she swiftly disappeared back outside onto the streets.

Enjolras quickly, and unintentionally violently, stood, his chair falling backward. "Excuse me, gentlemen," he announced with his palms flat on the table. "I shall return momentarily."

Before he could hear any words of protest, he left the table, following directly in Eponine's footsteps. He found her lingering just outside of the doorway. As soon as she spotted him coming after her, though, she bolted. She took long, determined strides to escape from him down the street.

"Eponine!" he called, jogging a little ways to catch her. "Eponine, don't run from me."

She didn't pay him any mind. The next building over he was finally able to lay a hand on her shoulder, ceasing her and coming up beside her. She didn't seem at all happy about that.

"Eponine, wait a moment."

"What is it, Enjolras?" she asked impatiently, turning on him. "What do you want? I don't want to even see you right now, let alone speak to you."

"I know, I know. I realize that last night was rather awkward and…intense," Enjolras tried to explain.

"Intense is an understatement," she corrected, her arms crossed haughtily over her chest. "It was downright uncalled for. I don't care if you don't approve of my interests. I don't have to answer to you."

His stomach fluttered. Her boldness was something to be admired. The female company he typically surrounded himself with did not possess the similar fortitude. He hated empty headedness. He disliked the silly girls that were so similar to one another. He actually found that Eponine was quite refreshing. He never had really talked to her much or had shown much interest in her. But now, having witnessed this fire, he believed that he was actually fonder of her company than the others.

"I'm sorry," he stated, genuinely.

It took Eponine by surprise. It took a few seconds for her to organize her thoughts. It wasn't every day that one got an apology from the great Enjolras. "Wh-What was that?"

He smirked. "I'm sorry, Eponine. Please, let me make it up to you. Let me redeem myself."

She remembered herself and stiffened, shutting down again. "Redeem yourself? And how do you expect to do that?"

He had seen her receptiveness to his apology, but now her defenses were building again. He had to convince her before it was too late. The fact that she was still there in front of him, though, was certainly reassuring.

"How about I treat you to dinner tonight?" he suggested.

"You and I both know that you lack the means for such a display," she charged.

He shrugged. "I never said it would be the most luxurious dinner, but I have my ways of ensuring it will be better than what you are typically used to. So what do you say?"

She eyed him critically. Nothing seemed right about this situation. Every inch of her was telling her to decline, to run. After all, that was what she was used to doing. She had learned to protect herself, to shut people out. It was only normal for her to react the same way in this situation.

She sighed, rather defeated. She tossed her hands. "What do you want from me, Enjolras?"

Enjolras grazed her arm gently. He hoped she would respond in a comforted way. "All I want is to have dinner with you and to set things right."

Eponine was surprised by his sincerity. In fact, she was rather intrigued by it. She wasn't completely reassured that he was being up front and honest with her, but she trusted in his humanity. There was little else she could do, after all. So, she wanted to say that her answer came from that understanding place and not from the fact that she hadn't had a decent meal in over three days, but she couldn't say for certain.

"All you want is to have dinner with me," she repeated, as if she couldn't believe the words were real unless she said them herself. "Against my better judgment, Enjolras, I will agree to this. We shall meet for dinner tonight at eight, but that is it. There will be nothing more. Do you understand me?"

"Do you think me such a bad man, Eponine? I am not trying to take advantage of you. Can't you just trust me?" It was a stupid thing to say. Everybody that lived on the streets knew that trust always came with a cost. It wasn't something that was easily or freely given.

Eponine took a deep breath. "Here at eight tonight. Just dinner." And she strode away from the café without another word.


	3. Dinner at Notre Dame

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Les Miserables, the novel or the musical, both of which are amazing.

 **Title:** The Note

 **Summary:** Enjolras has never been fond of the female affection thrown his way. Yet, he finds himself strangely compelled when he discovers an anonymous note in his pocket. Who was the one to put it there? And, when he discovers the truth, will he then be able to convince her that he is indeed the one the note was intended for?

 **Author's Note:** I do apologize for making Enjolras seem a bit too rude. I wanted it to be quite obvious that he didn't really approve of the way Eponine went about things with Marius. Also, that he isn't really into the whole romance thing and, in a way, looked down on others that were completely blinded by such a thing. If that makes sense…? Hopefully as the story goes on, I will be able to make his previous behavior a bit more…understandable/acceptable. Hopefully, though, this chapter redeems him a bit. I don't want it to seem like he is so easily swayed, which may be the reason behind his reaction when he finds himself alone again.

 **Chapter 3 – Dinner at Notre Dame**

Darkness had inhabited Paris, and Eponine knew that the time had come for her to meet Enjolras for this absurd dinner he was planning. She couldn't say she had high hopes for it. She knew that he wasn't much better off financially than she was. And, he wasn't one to resort to petty thievery. At least, she figured, if he ended up tricking her with this, as well, she could be reassured in all of her reservations against him.

It was easy enough for her to find her way. Not only had she frequented the Café Musain so much, but she also thrived in the blackness of night, so getting to her destination took no time at all. Spying it in the distance, she wished that she could put off the inevitable. If there was a way to continue to procrastinate, she would have jumped at the opportunity.

Unfortunately, nothing seemed to present itself, and she reached the designated meeting spot before the other party.

She loitered just outside, not wanting to be recognized by the regular clientele within. She half imagined Enjolras lounging at a table with his friends, laughing at her foolishness and his ability to manipulate her. She wrapped the shawl, which was little more than a lengthy piece of cloth, tighter about her shoulders in a sad attempt to stave off the chill in the air. Her dark eyes darted about. She couldn't help wondering how ridiculous she looked, and if Enjolras failed to show up, she would seem even more ridiculous.

Typically she could care less what everybody thought of her. If not, she would have stopped chasing Marius long ago. She knew what people said about her. She knew that she was often called pathetic and delusional. It didn't matter, though. Nobody understood. Besides, it was a cruel world with nobody to rely upon other than oneself. She was merely prepared in that sense.

Enjolras always seemed so serious and so demanding. She watched him at times when dealing with female suitors. He never even gave them a second look. It was as if such emotions were worthless to him. She really wondered at times what the reason was for his defensiveness. For him to be so uninclined toward female attention, something must have occurred. She couldn't say she had much interest in the answer, but there was a bit of curiosity there.

Lost in thought, Eponine almost missed Enjolras approaching. She saw him at the last second. He carried a baguette under one arm and a cloth parcel in his hand. Underneath his other arm was a bottle of wine, and he balanced two glasses in his last available hand. Much beyond her awareness, she straightened her posture at his approach, even going so far as to tug at her tattered shirt. It looked as if he had taken special care of his appearance. His entire ensemble seemed neater. And, she couldn't be completely sure, but it seemed that he had run a comb through his unruly blonde locks.

"I see you actually showed," he greeted with a grin.

"Are you surprised?" she baited.

He shrugged as best he could with his arms full. "A little. I really didn't know what to expect when I got here."

Her eyes moved about, landing everywhere but on him. She pretended that their meeting had been nothing more than an afterthought to her. "Well I couldn't let the food go to waste." At least it was half true. Her gaze landed on the items he was carrying. "Are we going in? I don't know that they will like that you've brought your own refreshments."

"Actually, I found a much nicer venue." He turned on his heel, marching away from the Café Musain, expecting her to follow. And, she didn't disappoint.

"Where are we going?" she asked, but received no answer. "Enjolras!" It made her quicken her pace behind him, eager to reach this mysterious destination.

They weaved in and out of side streets, a route that she knew well. Even so, it wasn't until they had come directly upon Notre Dame that she realized where he had taken her. She ceased in her tracks, staring up at the darkened façade of the cathedral. It took him a few extra strides before he realized she had stopped. He turned back around toward her, expectantly.

"I thought we could take a seat on one of the benches here and enjoy the view," Enjolras told her.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Eponine breathed. Her gaze finally fell back down, halting on him. "Why would you choose this, of all places, to have dinner?"

Enjolras shrugged, apparently not understanding the issue she had. "I am sorry, Eponine, I really didn't mean anything by it. I thought perhaps it would be best to make amends at the scene where the offense had taken place. Besides, it is quite a remarkable sight at night, wouldn't you say?"

She looked at him warily. "Why am I having doubts about this already?"

He laughed, crossing back to her. "Will you just trust me? Please, come and sit down." He ushered her to the nearest bench, where she lowered herself carefully onto it.

Enjolras set the items he carried onto the empty space, laying everything out carefully. He untied the small bundle, revealing a wedge of cheese, a knife to slice it with, and a stem of grapes. Her eyes went wide at seeing the fruit, as such luxuries were typically hard to come by. He uncorked the bottle of wine, which looked to be missing a few cups already, and poured it into each glass.

"Stale bread and a half-empty bottle of wine," Eponine said snidely. "Why am I not surprised?"

"If you are going to criticize my choice of meal," Enjolras said, glancing up at her, "then you don't have to have any."

She frowned, biting her lip, as her stomach protested against her. "How did you happen to get ahold of some grapes?"

He grinned slyly. "That's my secret."

A smile erupted onto her face, much against her will, and she shook her head. "Well, you are charming. I have to give you that," she said incredulously.

"Did it pain you to admit that?"

She laughed. "A bit."

Enjolras held up one of the cups. "Here, take this."

She took it in both hands, cradling it close. She watched him divide up the food, breaking apart the baguette and slicing off some cheese. Her eyes lingered on his hands, which worked deftly and gracefully. She had never noticed before that he had rather skillful hands.

Finished with his culinary preparations, Enjolras slid onto the bench next to her. He balanced the food in his lap and his own cup of wine in one hand. The stars were the only source of light that evening, but even those weren't dependable. Even so, both Enjolras and Eponine appeared to be content and capable.

"So what should we toast to?" Enjolras asked, raising his cup.

She thought for a moment then shrugged. "New beginnings?"

"To new beginnings," he agreed. "To friendship, and the possibility of something more."

His glass clinked gently against hers, which appeared frozen in the air. He took a small sip, staring at her the entire time. She nearly forgot to do the same, but found it an excuse to avert her own attention. She couldn't figure out his motive. She had no idea where he could be coming from and what he could possibly want. It unnerved her.

She tore off a piece of the bread and cheese combination with her teeth, taking her time to chew the concoction. Meanwhile, it allowed a heavy silence to fall between them. She could feel his gaze on her still and didn't know how to react to that. Her body tensed, uncomfortable.

After a moment, Eponine introduced conversation as a way to ease the awkwardness. "I suppose that this isn't a terrible spot to enjoy a meal, especially when the weather cooperates. You should consider it for a date." Her eyes darted nervously toward him.

"Unfortunately I don't find myself on many of those."

"You seem to have enough admirers to keep you thoroughly occupied."

"I'm not interested in any of those women," he admitted. He finished masticating his bit of bread and turned the conversation around. "Speaking of admirers, though, what is it about Marius that fascinates you so, if you don't mind me asking?"

She cast him a look, which he pretended to not notice in the darkness. She sighed then. "I suppose I could try to explain it to someone. Honestly, though, I don't know that I have the whole reasoning myself. He is so genuine. He is everything that I wish I could be and more."

"You wish that you were a fool blinded by love?" Enjolras spat.

"Is that not precisely what I am?"

He paused, since he couldn't deny this. "I…I'm sorry…I didn't…Eponine…"

He had often thought exactly that, but for whatever reason he wished he had considered his words before saying them. Perhaps it was the hurt expression on her face. He didn't want to see the pain that would crack across her face. He didn't want to chase her away again. Instead, he looked at the ground between his feet, ashamed.

Then she giggled. "It's all right, Enjolras. I know that I am. I know that what I am doing is terribly wrong. I know that Marius doesn't see me and that he probably never will. Why I continue to torture myself like this, though, I can't say. Perhaps I enjoy the pain." She shrugged.

"If you know all of this, you can change it," he said quietly. "You should turn your attention elsewhere, onto someone who is worthier of you."

She raised an eyebrow, seeing her chance and the ability to pounce. "Someone like you?"

Enjolras froze. His entire body stiffened and his heart nearly stopped. He couldn't help thinking that she looked quite serious for a moment, and that frightened him. "Excuse me?"

Eponine laughed, finding great amusement. "Don't worry, Enjolras. I know you aren't inclined to such things. I thought that you wouldn't understand my position, but perhaps I underestimated you."

He grinned. "That would be a terrible mistake."

The evening was unfolding better than either of them could have foreseen. Enjolras actually forgot for a time what he was doing and who he was with. He had never before found this much enjoyment in the company of a woman before. Her words lingered on his mind the entire time, though. He hadn't actually had himself in mind when he had referenced another man worthier of her affection. But, since she had brought up the idea of him as that man, he couldn't get it out of his head. Yet, that couldn't be possible unless he had feelings for her.

"You know, Enjolras," Eponine said after they had gotten through the entire baguette and cheese wedge and grapes and about the third cup of wine, "this has been much more enjoyable than I expected it to be."

"I think, for once, we agree on something." He smiled genuinely pleasantly.

Her cheeks possessed a charming flush from either the alcohol or the chilliness of the air. He considered it to be the latter when she shivered ever so slightly and she accordingly pulled the thin wrap tighter around her bare arms. She stood and turned away, as if attempting to cover it up.

Enjolras followed suite. "I didn't realize how cold it's gotten outside," he said, though he felt completely comfortable. He figured she wouldn't be the one to say so. He shrugged out of his jacket. "You must be freezing."

She started slightly when he placed it on her shoulders. She turned toward him, appearing rather frightened and confused. Her mouth was agape as if about to protest, but then, as if reconsidering, her lips fell closed gently against one another. She smiled, half-heartedly. "Thank you."

He moved in closer so that he was able comfortable rub some heat into her upper arms. "It's unfortunate you're so thin," he whispered. "I wish I had something heavier to give you."

She looked up into his eyes, finding comfort. She had only ever imagined that he could be this considerate, but she had never thought that he actually was. From what she had seen, he had never seemed terribly capable of being so understanding.

She frowned, which caused him to gradually do the same. She began to feel very nervous, very out of place. It didn't really sit right with her the way that he was turning out to be a completely different person than what she had expected: a better man than she could have ever given him credit for. Not to mention, the sudden skip in her heart, which she had only ever thought Marius capable of causing in her, was unnerving.

Eponine cleared her throat, taking a step backward from him. His hands fell off of her, his arms swinging down by his sides. She broke the contact between their gazes, as well, suddenly feeling a lot better as soon as that was accomplished.

"Eponine?" Enjolras ventured. "Is everything all right?"

"Y-Yes," she lied. "I-It's just gotten so late, hasn't it?"

Enjolras glanced around at the thick darkness surrounding them. "I suppose."

"I need to leave," Eponine said resolutely. "I'm sorry for being so abrupt, but…" She backed up a few more steps.

"Well, if you really think so," Enjolras said. "Wait a moment, I'll walk you home."

She cracked a smirk. "Thank you, but there's no need. I can manage on my own. I always do."

She glanced at him one last time then disappeared into the shadows without another look over her shoulder. He watched her go, standing dumbly in the middle of the courtyard of Notre Dame. This was the second time she left him alone in the middle of the night. He scoffed.

Enjolras pattered back to the bench and grabbed up the bottle of wine and the remaining alcohol within. He turned in the direction of his humble abode, leaving behind their dinner makings, not caring about the fate of the dull knife or simple cloth.

"Why am I doing this to myself?" he asked the darkened streets around him. He snaked his way through the sleeping streets. "Why do I care?"

The darkened buildings didn't offer him an answer. They merely echoed the shuffling of his determined footfalls on the cobblestones back at him. He decided that he really didn't need to be a part of this with her. He didn't need a distraction such as this. He took a long swig of the wine, draining the bottle of half of the liquid left inside of it. He wiped his moist lips on his sleeve.

Enjolras replayed the night in his head. He couldn't find any particular part that he felt warranted such a dismissal from her. Yet, he couldn't deny her the exit she had chosen to take. He had seen the fear spread across her features. He had noted the caution with which she had looked at him.

He didn't know where this frustration was coming from then. Or, why his head felt so warm. His heart beat so frantically against his chest. He emptied the wine then discarded the bottle off to the side of the street. He listened to it shatter against the pavement, breaking into a million pieces. He stepped casually toward where it had scattered. He stared down at the pieces of glass that sparkled in the starlight.

Enjolras laughed, his voice echoing off of the surrounding architecture. "Could this really be happening?" he slurred to himself. "Could I really be brought down by a foolish girl?" He shook his head incredulously. "Could I really be falling for her?"


	4. The Plunge

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Les Miserables, the novel or the musical, both of which are amazing.

 **Title:** The Note

 **Summary:** Enjolras has never been fond of the female affection thrown his way. Yet, he finds himself strangely compelled when he discovers an anonymous note in his pocket. Who was the one to put it there? And, when he discovers the truth, will he then be able to convince her that he is indeed the one the note was intended for?

 **Author's Note:** Not much to say. This is just a little aftermath from the "date" the night before. It may seem a little fast, but it is just the idea of falling head first into something without much concern over the consequences. Like, a life of rules that reached a breaking point. Or what have you. ^.^

 **Chapter 4 – The Plunge**

They could have walked the city twice over. On such a nice, warm day, with the sun bright in the sky, it seemed like everybody had had the same idea. The streets were littered with pedestrians. On the wealthier side, ladies sported decorative parasols and elaborate bonnets to keep the harsh rays off of their faces. Gentleman wore top hats made of the finest materials. On the streets where Enjolras was much more comfortable, however, the people got by however they could manage.

"There would be nothing better on a day like today than a stroll through the gardens with a beautiful woman," Grantaire commented, as they passed by another couple occupying the streets. "But instead I am stuck here with you lot."

Les Amis de l'ABC chuckled at this.

Combeferre eyed Marius. "Not that it is lovely to see more of you, Marius, but wouldn't you prefer to be strolling about with your special lady friend?"

Marius grinned. "Trust me, it was my first choice." Another laugh erupted through the group.

It was true that Marius had spent the entire day with the group of friends without excusing himself once to tend to his new love interest. It was certainly a change for them, but they didn't complain. Of course, they jested with Marius still, but that was to be expected from this particular group.

"You've been awfully quiet today, Enjolras," Marius acknowledged. "Anything on your mind?"

He looked to his friends. He had been wearing a large grin on his face the entire day, finding that he just couldn't get rid of it. It was definitely peculiar, especially with the topic of romance in the air. He had yet to put in his own sarcastic comment or biting remark. It seemed to be a day of surprises.

Enjolras shrugged. "Nothing of any importance. I'm just enjoying the view, that's all."

"Enjoying the view?" Courfeyrac laughed. "I think the sun has gotten to his head."

"Speaking of which," Grantaire interjected, "can we please head somewhere for a drink?"

"I know just the place." Marius grinned.

The others already knew which café the young man was referring to. It was the only café they ever seemed to go to, after all. And, luckily, it was located just ahead. After a long day of walking and enjoying the outdoors, they didn't know if they would have been able to make it much farther than that.

They went inside, taking up their usual table. Without having to say anything, wine and water was delivered to them. The first round was practically inhaled. They hadn't realized how thirsty or dehydrated they were until they had actually gotten a taste of the cool water. After that, they proceeded to sip their wine.

"A loaf of bread, if you'd be so kind," Courfeyrac ordered from the pretty barmaid. She smiled in consent and walked back to her station. He watched her the entire way with a smirk on his lips.

Enjolras listened to the conversation the table held with little interest. His mind was much too distracted to concentrate on such menial topics at the moment. He was lost in thoughts of the previous night. He could still hear Eponine's laughter chiming in his ears. He could still see her smile and her eyes as they glittered in the starlight. He was quite sure, though it had only been a number of hours, that he missed her company.

He must have, after all, since he seemed to be seeing her wherever he went. He thought he had spotted her underneath a parasol on the street. He had truly believed that it was her in the park no more than an hour ago. And now, here she was again, sitting across the room in the Café Musain.

They locked eyes, and she smiled, giving a slight nod.

"Why are you smiling?" Marius asked innocently.

He hadn't realized it, but Enjolras had a rather goofy grin on his face. It must have been an automatic reaction to Eponine. But then that meant that she was actually real. He immediately adjusted his expression, turning his lips down so as not to be so obvious.

"N-No reason," he stammered, hoping that he could cover it up. "Something just randomly came to my mind."

"And, as always," Combeferre started, "Enjolras is off in his own world, being Enjolras."

Enjolras clapped him on the shoulder with a nervous laugh. Then he finished off the rest of the wine that was sitting in his cup. He hoped that he could distract his friends by pouring another glass for himself. "Does anybody need a refill?" he even offered. "And let me get some of that bread."

All of his efforts were to no avail, however, because the next time he glanced upward, Eponine was loitering by their table. All of the men appeared to notice, too. And, the folded jacket clutched protectively in her arms did not go ignored, either.

"Enjolras," she said quietly. Her smile had faded and there was definite hesitation and concern expressed on her face. "I've…There's…" Her eyes darted about his friends sitting around the table before landing back on him. "May I see you in private, please?"

Nobody appeared more shocked than Marius. Though he pretended to be blind to her interest, there was no possibility of denying its existence. Never before had she ever had to speak with Enjolras, especially in private. Never before had he requested that of her either.

Enjolras blinked a couple of times, as if digesting this request. But he stood up, nonetheless. "Certainly."

He followed her off to the side where their words wouldn't be overheard. He would have preferred something a bit more private, since they could still watch their interaction; and, sure enough, his friends stared directly at them.

"About last night," she began immediately. It took him off guard, but he fell smoothly in line with her.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" he interjected. "I sincerely hoped that you would like what I had arranged."

She paused then nodded briefly. "I just wanted to give you this back." She pushed the folded jacket into his arms. It was the one he had put over her shoulders the previous evening, when the temperature had turned colder.

He scoffed in disbelief, looking down at it. "Honestly, I had forgotten all about it."

She shrugged. "I thought you might want it back right away. It is your favorite, after all."

"I suppose it is." Enjolras smiled, his gaze darting onto her. "I never thought you to be so considerate, Eponine."

"Oh, well, it was nothing, really."

"I figured your infatuation with Marius-"

"Marius," she breathed.

Eponine glanced over at the table, at Marius in particular. It seemed almost like an afterthought, as if she hadn't noticed his presence earlier. Or, as if she hadn't cared so much. Enjolras couldn't help feeling rather pleased at this possibility. But, the longer she stared at him, the more the doubt began to grow. He started to feel more closed off.

"Well," he said rather loudly to draw her attention back to him, "thank you for this."

"I hope that we can forget this whole thing, now," Eponine responded coldly. "You no longer have to worry about me, and I will make sure to never bother you again. Things can go back to the way they used to be." She offered a half-hearted smile as agreement.

Enjolras hesitated. He looked back at Marius, who seemed completely preoccupied with no thought or concern as to what was occurring between him and Eponine now. He looked at Eponine, who held a sad and somewhat regretful hint in her eyes. All the while, his heart pounded in his chest, and his mind was fast at work. It was time for him to make a decision.

"No," he announced loudly. So loud, that it drew the attention of the entire floor of the café.

"No?" she asked, confused.

"Things will not go back to the way they used to be," Enjolras continued, his voice bouncing off of the walls around them. This was going to be the biggest test of his nerve. Not only was he giving in completely to his emotions, he was also giving in completely to the unknown. He was finally placing his trust in something, in someone.

Eponine glanced about at all of the eyes locked on them. "Enjolras, what are you doing?" she whispered.

"I am making it known, Eponine," he said. "I am finally choosing to trust in something. No," he shook his head, "not something. Someone."

"What?" she breathed.

It was all she was able to get out before she was cut off. There was a pressure on her lips. There was a break in her breath. Enjolras' lips were on hers. His hands were to either side of her head, pressing himself gently into her. His beloved jacket was strewn on the ground where it had fallen.

It only lasted a moment, but she was so stunned that she couldn't react.

Still holding her close, Enjolras continued. He stared deeply into her eyes, trying to get her to believe. "You didn't place that note in my pocket by mistake, Eponine. I know you were looking for something real, something true. You found it. I am dedicating myself to you and no one else, you hear me? I am yours, and I will wait for you for as long as it takes."

Eponine broke free. She took a few steps backwards, but was unable to look away from him. It was as if she was in a trance of some kind. She hated to be so visible, especially after all of the time she had spent being invisible. It was too much to take. She felt that she might faint from the embarrassment and the heat in her head.

She found her way to the door and escaped from the Café Musain. Unfortunately, that meant leaving Enjolras behind to deal with the scene he had just created. But, he seemed less concerned with it than she had been.

Enjolras turned on his heel and headed back to the table, where his friends stared at him with mouths agape. He even resumed his seat and took a sip of his wine, appearing just as confident and cool as usual.

Finally, Courfeyrac found his voice, the first of anyone in the entire room. "What did you just do?"


	5. Aftermath

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Les Miserables, the novel or the musical, both of which are amazing.

 **Title:** The Note

 **Summary:** Enjolras has never been fond of the female affection thrown his way. Yet, he finds himself strangely compelled when he discovers an anonymous note in his pocket. Who was the one to put it there? And, when he discovers the truth, will he then be able to convince her that he is indeed the one the note was intended for?

 **Author's Note:** This chapter is a bit shorter. I just wanted to showcase the aftermath of what happened in the café. So it jumps from Enjolras to Eponine with a little breaker separating the two. It is occurring in the same evening at the same time, though.

 **Chapter 5 – Aftermath**

His friends weren't speaking to him. Well, he wasn't speaking to them. But, for good reason! He didn't want to have to explain himself over and over again. Firstly, he didn't believe he needed to give any sort of explanation. It wasn't their business. Secondly, he really didn't know himself. He could have blamed being caught in the moment, but he knew that he had been fully conscious of what he had said. He didn't like the idea of possibly lying about what made him cause such a scene at the Café Musain. It actually made him a little sick to his stomach.

Enjolras ran his fingers through his unkempt locks. He was still attempting to come to terms with what had occurred earlier, with having announced his intentions regarding Eponine to the entire world. He was a very private person, so it was safe to say that nobody thought that he would do something like that. He also had never paid attention the female attention constantly cast his way. It must have seemed so unlike him then to dedicate himself to Eponine in the middle of the crowded café.

He didn't stay home at night often, but it seemed quite appropriate for that evening. There wasn't much to his humble abode. It was a one room apartment that he received almost free of charge because the older woman who ran the building had a wandering eye. It contained a wooden table with a matching chair, a thin mattress, a drawer set, and a pair of moth eaten curtains over the only window.

He sat in darkness at the table with only the sparse moonlight spilling in through the window. He had tried to forget about the incident all day, but his friends had kept bothering him with questions. Then when he had finally gotten rid of them, sleep eluded him. In the silence and loneliness of the room, her face haunted him.

If Enjolras was being completely honest with himself, he didn't regret going about it the way he had or saying the things he had said. In fact, he still stood by them. He still believed in them. It had been a way to ensure that Eponine could not run away. Unfortunately, at the same time, he wouldn't have blamed her if she equated it to being caught in a trap.

He knew her. She preferred to be alone. She preferred her own thoughts to the presence of another person. He knew that deep down it was because she was scared, and that that fright came from being hurt too many times. There was nobody for her to rely upon but herself. However, he had presented her with another option. He was putting himself out there for her to confide in and unburden herself on. He had offered in front of everyone to be there for her always.

He scoffed. Enjolras just realized something that he didn't like. It made him scowl, turning down the sides of his lips.

"It is the same situation now," he muttered to the darkness.

It was. He was referring to Eponine's situation with Marius. It was the same one that he criticized and turned his nose up at on a constant basis. Eponine pined away over Marius, who did not even acknowledge her feelings for him. He even had public interest in another young woman, who Eponine could not even compare to. At least, in Marius' eyes.

And, here he was. He had publicly declared his intentions for Eponine, who only had ever shown interest in Marius. She might not even consider him more than a mere acquaintance. He hoped that he had at least won her friendship, but it was difficult to tell with Eponine. She wasn't one to reassure someone about the regard she held them in. It was frustrating.

He was frustrated. He was annoyed that he had somehow fallen into such a difficult position. He couldn't foresee himself going back on what he had said, though. Even if it was to save his honor, he couldn't denounce what he had just publicly said. All he could do was hope that perhaps she would come around. He knew that she had hope for the same thing with Marius.

Enjolras chuckled incredulously to himself. Of course when he finally chose to love someone it would mean getting himself involved in the worst triangle that he could ever conceive.

xXx

Eponine sighed, staring up into the night sky. The stars stared back at her and the moon smiled. She couldn't smile back, unfortunately. After the day she had had, that was perhaps the last thing she wanted to do.

She still couldn't believe that Enjolras had put her on the spot like that: by announcing to the entire café his intentions of dedicating himself to her. He had probably expected her to fall at his feet in worship. She wouldn't put it past him to believe that all it took was a confession and a public display to have her swoon. Unfortunately, she wasn't that type of girl.

There was little else she could do the rest of the day than avoid the Café Musain and dwell on what had occurred. It was just how her mind worked, and it was most certainly a curse. That was part of the reason she refused to leave Marius alone. It was the only way to get him off of her mind. Now, it turned out that Enjolras had accomplished the most difficult task of giving her something else to obsess over.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to yell. Most of all, she wanted to really give Enjolras a piece of her mind. He was the only one, she had discovered, that could really get a rise out of her. He was the only one to cause so much passion to course through her veins. She liked to believe that she could cause the same in him, since she had only ever seen such a specific reaction when he was interacting with her.

A small smile crept to Eponine's lips much despite herself. She had to admit that she thoroughly enjoyed the back and forth they tended to get into whenever they did happen to speak to one another. She felt truly alive when in his presence. Otherwise, she was just another shadow, a ghost, drifting through the world, never being noticed or considered. It was always fake pleasantries whenever she got some. She preferred the silence to the lies.

She figured that what was done was done. There was no way to turn back time to redo what had ultimately been done. She was stuck with the awkward tension that Enjolras had created and she had to live with it. She figured that she could muster up the courage to still show her face among the people she had grown accustomed to. She could still find a way to endure Enjolras' presence. It may be difficult, but she was used to such things.

"Why?" she whispered to herself, though there was nobody else present on the darkened streets to overhear her. "Why would you do such a thing? Why would you say such things?"

Enjolras wasn't present, but she still hoped to gain some answers. Those types of questions were the foremost on her mind, and, of course, they were the ones that she couldn't get relief from immediately. Perhaps it was the cynic in her that believed that there was some sort of motive behind his words. There was never any interest between them before, though the last couple of days were certainly abnormal. He had always made fun of Marius in the past, of her. He criticized romance constantly, believing to be above such trivial pursuits.

She suddenly froze, her breath caught in her throat.

"Is that your game, Enjolras?" she managed after a moment.

It was quite possible that he was merely doing this to prove a point. Everyone knew how much he hated to be wrong. Maybe he was trying to show the world that the heart was an unreliable thing—that it could be easily altered from its path. She wouldn't put such a dastardly thing past him.

She laughed to herself. Now that she knew his angle, she could best him at his own game. He would be the one looking foolish in the end. He would be the one finally proven wrong.

"Watch out, Enjolras," Eponine promised to herself, "I'm onto you. And believe me when I say that this is not going to be easy for you."


	6. Between Friends

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Les Miserables, the novel or the musical, both of which are amazing.

 **Title:** The Note

 **Summary:** Enjolras has never been fond of the female affection thrown his way. Yet, he finds himself strangely compelled when he discovers an anonymous note in his pocket. Who was the one to put it there? And, when he discovers the truth, will he then be able to convince her that he is indeed the one the note was intended for?

 **Author's Note:** This chapter obviously took me a bit longer to write. I do apologize for the lengthy delay. I actually wrote this one a couple of times, trying to find the best one. There were a few directions I thought of going in. Finally, I decided upon this one. Enjoy.

 **Chapter 6 – Between Friends**

They were all treating him differently, looking at him differently now, particularly Marius. It had been two days since his public confession and Enjolras had yet to see any sign from Eponine. It was as if she was purposefully staying away, which he wouldn't have been surprised at in the least if that was exactly what she was doing. In the meantime, he found that it was near impossible to continue to stay away from his friends and from the Café Musain. So, he had mustered up his courage and had joined his friends at their usual table for their usual drink that evening.

"Stop it," Enjolras muttered.

Courfeyrac shrugged nonchalantly. "Stop what?" he questioned; although, the large grin on his face made it clear he was already aware of what he was doing.

Enjolras raised one of the mugs to his lips. "Stop looking at me like that," he said before indulging in the drink.

Combeferre chuckled along with his friend. "It's just that we never thought this at all possible, Enjolras. You must let us have our reaction."

He waved his hand dismissively at them, pretending not to care. Truth was, he hated that he felt as though they respected him less. He appeared a hypocrite now. That was partially why he had avoided such things in the first place. He would have given anything to be able to maintain his previous reputation. He still felt the same, after all, if perhaps with a slightly different fire in his belly. His head also seemed to be more occupied these days with thoughts of Eponine, in particular.

"Of all people," Combeferre continued on, "I never thought it would be Eponine."

Enjolras eyed him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Well, hadn't we been saying all along that it would happen to you one day? That you would eventually fall in love and know what it feels like?"

"Has she said anything to you yet?" Marius cut in.

It caused everyone else at the table to stop momentarily and turn his way. Enjolras, especially, set the mug down silently and finally faced him. He had felt a strange tension in Marius' gaze, which he had chosen to ignore, at least while in the presence of the other young men. He hadn't even expected to find Marius there that evening and had been a little put off when he had. For whatever reason, it had seemed more appropriate to confront Marius alone about what had transpired. Unfortunately, he had never had a chance to do so.

Enjolras paused then shook his head slowly. "No, I haven't even seen her yet."

"I suspect she must have been scared off, Enjolras," Grantaire added, glancing between the two of them.

"And who wouldn't be?" Courfeyrac chimed in. "The only approach Enjolras knows is head on."

"Don't you know that it's much more successful to be a bit more subtle and carefree?" Combeferre told.

He glanced suspiciously between his friends. "What is this? What's going on here?"

Though Combeferre and Courfeyrac peered at each other knowingly, Enjolras was quite aware that Grantaire and Marius kept staring at him. It was his own curiosity and concern that distracted him from them.

The large grin returned to Courfeyrac's face and played now on Combeferre's as well. Suddenly, Enjolras felt very exposed. It seemed that there was some sort of surprise or secret that was about to be revealed—something much unexpected.

"We're trying to help you, you idiot," Combeferre explained.

"You want to get the girl, don't you?" Courfeyrac joined, but they all knew the answer.

Enjolras scoffed. "And you think you can help me convince Eponine, do you?"

Grantaire held his arms out. "Look at who you are talking to, Enjolras," he replied quietly. "Not only are we more knowledgeable than you, but we could be considered experts in the subject."

"Experts?" he mocked.

Grantaire leaned in, his elbows resting on the table. "Who else are you going to go to, huh?"

Enjolras' eyes darted toward Marius, who was still staring very seriously at him. They darted away just as quickly. He considered their offer. It wasn't the most attractive proposal, but he really didn't have anybody else to confide in. Besides, they were right in saying that they had much more experience than he did in this subject. It was quite possible that they could give him some pointers on how to approach Eponine as the young woman she was.

He shrugged, pulling his mug close to him again. "I suppose I have no choice, do I?"

Courfeyrac chuckled. "That's the spirit!" He lifted his own mug, motioning for the others to do the same. "Shall we toast to new endeavors?"

"How about we toast to Enjolras finally getting laid?" Combeferre corrected.

"That's not what-" Enjolras started to retort, but suddenly he found himself interrupted by Marius.

"To love," he cut in sharply, too seriously.

He had a mug raised and stared at Enjolras with an odd gleam in his eyes and an unsettling smirk on his lips. Enjolras paused, considering the gesture and the expression. Finally, though, he raised his mug a little higher in Marius' direction.

"To love," he repeated quieter.

The five friends each took a sip of their respective drink.

"So," Grantaire said, setting the mug back onto the table, "where do we begin?"

xXx

Enjolras stared up at the stars that had finally emerged from beyond the clouds. He leaned against one of the buildings in the entrance of an adjoining alleyway just outside of the café. After talking with his friends for a good couple of hours, he finally needed a break. While they had good ideas and advice, his mind had started to go numb.

"I thought I'd find you out here."

He looked toward the voice, spying Marius within a few feet, a bottle of wine clutched in one of his hands. He wore a familiar grin.

"I needed some air," Enjolras admitted, smiling back. Marius offered the bottle of wine, which he was only able to recognize as about half empty once he accepted it.

He took a long swig from it and wiped his mouth with his hand once finished. He handed it back to Marius, who did the same. It was the first time they were alone together since Enjolras' confession.

"I'm glad it's just the two of us," Enjolras began, believing it only right for him to initiate things, "because I've been wanting to speak with you."

"I figured as much," Marius muttered, his expression now somber.

"You did," Enjolras confirmed. It was a statement, not a question or a comment of surprise.

Marius hesitated then offered him the bottle of wine again. He paused, watching Marius, who watched him back. Both pairs of eyes dared not waver. It was as if they were involved in some sort of standoff, though Enjolras couldn't say why.

He was the first to blink and to look away. As soon as his gaze danced down onto the bottle, he snatched it and took a swig. He stared down at it as the liquid slipped down his throat, warming his body. It was only because he couldn't bring himself to meet Marius' eyes while their conversation continued.

"I'm sure that all of this has come as quite a surprise," he stated carefully and neutrally.

Marius scoffed. "That's an understatement."

"Believe me," he continued swiftly, "I wasn't prepared for the words that came out of my mouth just as much as you weren't, I'm sure."

Marius didn't wait for Enjolras to hand over the wine. Instead, he snatched it from Enjolras' hand. "I highly doubt that," he insisted then drank deeply from the bottle.

Enjolras glared at his friend. He didn't know why he was getting the strong impression that he was meant to defend himself, but he definitely did not like it.

"It's not like you have feelings for Eponine," Enjolras hissed. "I don't see why you are so upset."

Marius dropped the bottle from his lips in one swift motion. "Did I ever say that I was upset?" he snarled.

"You didn't have to! Your behavior and attitude are indication enough," Enjolras spat back.

Marius glared at him, his chest heaving with his heavy breathing. After a pause, he stated much more calmly, "I'm not upset, Enjolras. It's like you said, I was just taken off guard, that's all."

He shook his head and kneaded his forehead with two fingers. Scoffing, he reassured, "It's this wine, really. I haven't had much to eat today and it is going straight to my head."

Enjolras studied Marius. He wasn't completely convinced that he could believe the young man. He had never known Marius to get so worked up, unless it was over a woman. Yet, this was different, and this was the worst he had seen him get. But, he had even thought his approach to be quite abrupt and disturbing. He had only ever considered how it could have affected his friends. He had never actually seen it firsthand, though.

Enjolras sighed.

"Listen," Marius said with a small smile, "take your time. Finish this wine. You'll need the alcohol. Join us afterward, but there's no rush. I'll stall the others."

He handed over the bottle then pivoted on his heel and stalked back toward the café.

Enjolras stared after him. He held the wine bottle loosely in one hand. He had thought that the talk with Marius would have made him feel better. He thought that it would give him some sort of closure, if that's what he was looking for. Truth was, he had no idea what he was looking for from Marius or what he seemed to have to prove to him.

All Enjolras knew was that the conversation had left him feeling even more unsettled than before.


	7. Flowers

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Les Miserables, the novel or the musical, both of which are amazing.

 **Title:** The Note

 **Summary:** Enjolras has never been fond of the female affection thrown his way. Yet, he finds himself strangely compelled when he discovers an anonymous note in his pocket. Who was the one to put it there? And, when he discovers the truth, will he then be able to convince her that he is indeed the one the note was intended for?

 **Author's Note:** Sorry about the long awaited update of this chapter. I guess as I start to write things get a little crazy and I end up putting it off for a while. I will try to be better. I promise! Also, just as a note, for whatever reason I do not tend to reread these chapters before posting them. So I do apologize if something is off in one of them or there are some jumbled words or whatnot. I am so bad! I know!

 **Chapter 7 – Flowers**

Eponine stepped through the doorway to the Café Musain. Immediately, she felt everyone's eyes on her. It was the first time she had been back there since Enjolras' outburst. She had decided to return during the day when there was supposed to be less people, but the rain outdoors seemed to have driven everyone inside. And now, they were all staring at her.

As she moved further inward, she became very aware that they weren't just looking at her. She noticed that much of the regular females present were glaring at her. For whatever reason, she really hadn't considered that the fan base around Enjolras might become jealous at his blatant announcement of love for another. It made her feel even more uncomfortable.

She slid into a table by herself. Then it was the difficult task actually getting the maid's attention to order something to drink. It was quite obvious that this was another of his many admirers.

Meanwhile, towards the back of the café, Combeferre pulled his head back from around the corner, rejoining his friends.

"She's here," he hissed.

"Who are you talking about?" Grantaire asked impatiently.

"Probably another one of his many conquests he's trying to avoid," Courfeyrac replied with a laugh.

"No," Combeferre insisted. "Eponine's here!"

Enjolras nearly spilled his glass of wine at the mention of her presence in the vicinity. Luckily, he managed to catch it, only misplacing a few drops onto the wooden table. It had been a while since he had last seen her, so his mind was spinning. The only relief he had at that time was the absence of Marius. Ever since their encounter in the alleyway, an odd tension had befallen them. It was even worse than before.

"This is perfect timing," Courfeyrac said delightedly. "You'll be able to put all that we've instructed you to practice, Enjolras."

Enjolras hesitated then shook his head. "This is ridiculous. It's never going to work. She would never go for anything like this."

"Stop procrastinating." Combeferre lifted Enjolras from his chair, moving him involuntarily toward the main room.

"Wait a moment." Grantaire took the small vase from off the center of the table and removed the few flowers that had been standing up in it, dumping the water out onto the floor. "Be sure to present her with these first."

Enjolras looked down at the drooping flowers in his hand. "I don't think anyone would appreciate this."

"Don't be silly," Courfeyrac reassured. "Women love flowers."

"If you want to call these flowers," Enjolras muttered.

"What did we tell you?" Combeferre threatened. "You are to listen to us, for we know more in this matter than you do."

"You're the one that came to us, after all," Courfeyrac explained.

Not seeing a way out of the situation, Enjolras sighed and consented, however unwillingly. He walked through the café with the few wilted flowers out in front of him like some sort of shield. He was aware of the stares he was receiving, but he kept his gaze fixed on Eponine. He had never really done anything like this before and was rather skeptical that it could actually work. However, he was willing to give it a try since this was the first time he had laid eyes on her in days.

He cleared his throat to get her attention, for her back was to him. Eponine knew precisely who it was before turning around. She smiled to herself, though butterflies were rampant in her stomach. She was ready to begin this epic game. Nobody would call Eponine silly any longer. She made sure to adopt a more annoyed expression before finally spinning to face him.

"Enjolras," she muttered. She shook her head, as if confused and put off by his presence. "What do you want?"

He glanced over his shoulder at his friends who looked on eagerly. They nodded, as if in confirmation to an unasked question. Bringing his attention back to Eponine, he held the flowers out further, offering them to her. He tried to ignore her underwhelmed expression as she stared down at the sad, small bundle.

"These are for you," Enjolras said pathetically.

Eponine took the flowers, though hesitant and unsure what to do with them. In all honesty, no one had ever given her flowers. It made her heart leap a little, but she convinced herself to remain focused on the task at hand.

"Thank you, I think." She tossed her head. "I mean, these are wonderful, Enjolras. Thank you."

Enjolras cocked an eyebrow. "Really?"

"But of course," she insisted. "And, actually, I am quite glad that I ran into you today. I was hoping to ask you to join me for dinner tonight. It wouldn't be much—just a little something from the wonderful café here."

In that moment, it was difficult for Enjolras to think straight. He was aware that she seemed a bit out of character, asking his as she did and all. However, he was so caught up in her proclamation of liking the flower bouquet that it was impossible for him to dwell on anything else.

She smiled, as if taking his silence as consent. "Will eight o' clock work for you?" She nodded, sliding off of her seat. "I'll see you here." She spun on her heel and marched out of the café, quite proud of herself.

Grantaire had to retrieve Enjolras, who had remained stationary where Eponine had left him. Grantaire put an arm around his shoulders and turned his friend toward the back of the café and the other two waiting friends.

"It worked," Enjolras muttered in disbelief once surrounded by his friends.

Courfeyrac grinned knowingly. "I told you it would. You really shouldn't doubt us, Enjolras."

"He's got no confidence in our advice, that's what it comes down to," Combeferre agreed.

Enjolras broke free, taking a couple of steps away from the group so that he could breathe and think. "I just don't understand," he said shaking his head. "She was so much against me before. Why the sudden change?"

Combeferre slid an arm over his shoulders. "You shouldn't ask questions that have no answer, my friend. The world of women is a dangerous and mysterious one."

"One must tread lightly," Courfeyrac added quietly.

"It just doesn't seem like her," Enjolras said again, unconvinced.

"The answer is simple," Grantaire cut in.

He was sitting at the table again with another glass of wine already in hand. He lounged back, appearing like the master of all things related to the female sex. It was rather comical, in all actuality.

"So what is it then, oh might one?" Courfeyrac asked, sliding in beside him.

"It's the flowers." Grantaire grinned in a mocking and light-hearted manner.

xXx

Eponine was exactly on time for their date that evening. Enjolras had arrived early, as advised by his current love counselors. But, to be truthful, having to wait around had made him even more nervous than he already was. They had given him so much information on how to proceed that he felt even more unsettled. He never would have even accepted their advice in the first place, but this was uncharted territory he was in and he needed what little guidance he could call upon.

He had already gotten a table and managed to weasel some free bread out of the young female working that evening. The bottle of wine he had to purchase, though. Or, at least put it on his tab. He had managed to down a couple of glasses by the time his attention was captured by a figure entering the café that otherwise wouldn't typically be seen around the area.

Though the outfits she wore were always fairly similar, Eponine had found one less stained and dirty than the others and that hugged her body in all of the right places. Even her face and hands appeared to have been scrubbed clean. Enjolras had to stand to greet her because he was rendered speechless at the sight. With a small, knowing smirk on her face, she slid into the chair opposite his that he had pulled out for her.

It took him a moment to find his voice. He cleared his throat. "You look awfully nice," he complimented. "Where did you find that?"

Eponine shrugged as if it was no big deal. "It was just something I had lying about," she fibbed. She took her turn to glance him up and down, approving of what she saw. "You clean up nicely."

He had showed consideration to his appearance, as well. He had slicked his hair back away from his face. He had pulled out a fresh jacket that she had never seen before. His shoes had been cleaned as much as was possible. But the amount of filth from the street left them discolored. Even so, he looked good and Eponine was quite impressed.

Enjolras waited until after they put a small, cheap order in before getting down to what he really wanted to talk about. Granted, his friends had told him to avoid the subject, as it could cause her to feel awkward and wary again. But he felt that he had to do it. After all, he never got a chance to check with her feelings on the matter since the outburst.

"I'm very happy you came out with me tonight, Eponine," he started carefully. "Honestly, I was rather surprised that you suggested a date in the first place."

"Why would you say that?" she asked. "You seem to be fairly attractive to the young women around here."

He chewed his lip. "I suppose that is true. I guess I am attractive to the young women here. But not to you, Eponine." His eyes bore into her. "I was never to you."

Eponine frowned, a little moved and embarrassed. "You were," she admitted. "Well, you are. There is much about you that women admire. I just…You were just…" She trailed off, feeling very exposed and uncomfortable. She shook her head, losing herself in the moment and knowing she had to return to her rightful mind. She couldn't let him overtake her like that. "Wait a moment. How can you say that when you were more closed off than I was?" She was very proud of herself for turning the conversation onto him.

Enjolras seemed to be a little taken aback by the sudden shift. "Love was never something I even considered," he explained slowly, as if more to himself than to her. "This was never an option. It was just an unnecessary distraction that I would have preferred to never experience." He smiled. "But now I am glad that I did – that I am."

"But it just seemed to happen so quickly and without any explanation. Nobody understands where this came from, Enjolras. I don't even know, and it is off-putting."

"I understand. But, when does love ever warn you before it appears? When does love let you choose who to give your heart to and when it is most convenient? Some people do not even know when they are in love."

Eponine's breath caught in her throat and her heart pounded against her chest. She was moved by his sincerity and passion. It felt like he could see right through her and expose her deepest desires that she didn't even know existed. It was unnerving, and she felt for the first time that evening that she was not in control.

Enjolras cleared his throat, sensing the heaviness of his words. "But, I really just wanted to apologize for my behavior the other day. It was never my intention to embarrass you, but I thought in that moment I might explode. Is there any way you can possibly understand, Eponine?"

She ventured a gaze into his eyes. "I suppose so." She shrugged, a small, pleasant smile on her lips. "I mean, there have been worse things, after all. Someone declaring their love for me in a crowded room can't be considered one of those, it would seem."

He reached hesitantly across the table and cupped her hand, his own shaking quite severely. "Then may I ask you something?"

She stared down at their entwined fingers, unsure of how to react. She had never had the chance to interact like this with a man. It was new to her. Many times she had wished that Marius would take her hand the way Enjolras had, but being there in that moment, she wouldn't have wanted anybody else in Enjolras' place.

Using her silence as confirmation, he continued. "Is there any possibility that I have touched your heart? Do you, perhaps, feel the same way I do?"

She couldn't look at him. She felt the hot blush on her cheek and would have given anything to be able to run away at that time. "I suppose anything is possible," she responded without giving a conclusive response.

"I want to hear you say it," he whispered. "I need to hear you say the words, Eponine."

She shook her head, suddenly out of the moment. She stared at him, suspicion rising again, and she remembered what her initial plan had been. She retracted her hand, cradling it safely in her lap.

"What is it you want me to say, Enjolras?" she asked in an annoyed tone.

He appeared confused. "What?"

"Are you expecting me to declare my love for you now, is that it? Because doing so would be a lie."

"Why the sudden hostility, Eponine?"

"I can't do this anymore." She groaned in frustration, pushing her chair back and storming out.

After a moment's pause, Enjolras followed, though still very unsure of what just happened. It was easy for him to catch up to her with his longer legs. He managed to grab her arm and whirl her around to face him.

"Eponine, will you stop? What is this about?" he demanded. "You owe me some sort of explanation for what just happened in there."

She wrenched herself free, backing up a step or two. "You want to know what the problem is, Enjolras? I am onto your little game."

"Game? What are you talking about?"

"Do you think you can fool me with all of that nonsense you just spouted in there? You see this as a chance to prove to the world that you really are the suave, handsome Enjolras that everyone thinks you are." She had to pause to suck in a deep breath and to keep her voice from cracking. She didn't know if it was being so worked up or that perhaps there were some feelings deep down that she hadn't been aware existed. "You just see me as a conquest, nothing more."

"Is that what you really think?" he asked incredulously.

She nodded, though refused to look at him. "I thought I could make you suffer for it somehow. But I fear I am not strong enough to compete with you in matters of the heart."

He put a hand on each shoulder and turned her to face him. He was gentle, understanding, considerate. She could sense all of that in his touch alone. Even so, she was unwilling to open up to him. She hated herself. She hated to be seen as weak and pathetic. She wished he would just leave her be and move on to someone who would present more entertainment.

"How can I make you believe me, Eponine?" he whispered. With one finger, he lifted her chin so that she had to look at him. "I would never hurt you. How can I prove that to you?"

She shook her head lightly, his hand falling away. "There's no need. Let us just go our separate ways and pretend like this never happened."

Enjolras took a deep breath. There was no turning back. He gripped her shoulders roughly, but not to induce pain. He wanted her to understand just how serious he was.

"I'm tired of pretending, Eponine," he said gruffly. "I don't want to pretend anymore."

Though close as she was, he pulled her in even closer, so that she was right up against his body. Before she could resist or deny him, he leaned down and planted his lips demandingly on hers. He knew his friends would disapprove of his direct approach, but this was who he was. He couldn't play coy. He couldn't pretend disinterest. He just had to go for what he wanted.

She was stiff beneath his touch at first, but then her body began to relax into his. His arms snaked around her back, attempting to drag her even closer, but it was physically impossible. It took a moment, but hers found their way around his neck, pulling him in, as well. She wasn't sure if she could claim to have the same feelings toward Enjolras that he had declared for her. She knew that he made her heart beat faster by his mere presence.

And, in that moment, she knew that she just wanted him.


	8. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Les Miserables, the novel or the musical, both of which are amazing.

 **Title:** The Note

 **Summary:** Enjolras has never been fond of the female affection thrown his way. Yet, he finds himself strangely compelled when he discovers an anonymous note in his pocket. Who was the one to put it there? And, when he discovers the truth, will he then be able to convince her that he is indeed the one the note was intended for?

 **Author's Note:** So I want to make it clear before you read this chapter that I am not trying to make Marius into the "bad guy." However, I was considering in my head how one might react to the absence of another solely devoted to them. There is a saying: You don't know what you have until it is gone. Or some such version of that. Just keep that in mind, I suppose.

I also don't know if this chapter will be liked by many, if anyone, but I felt it necessary for some reason. After all, I guess the love triangle is now a major part of Les Miserables. So I am merely putting another player into it and tweaking it slightly. There you go. My "explanation."

 **Chapter 8 – One Step Forward, Two Steps Back**

Eponine walked back toward the place she called home with only the stars and the moon to guide her. Though Enjolras had adamantly offered to walk her back, she had insisted that he not. She thought back to the kiss and the awkwardness that had been very present afterward. It had taken everything for her to not run away in that moment, but somehow Enjolras had convinced her to linger just a little while. It was enough to confirm a longing that she possessed for him. Not for Marius, but for Enjolras.

She smiled bashfully to herself, still finding it quite unbelievable that she should possess these feelings. She hardly knew the young man. He hardly knew her. Yet, perhaps it was enough. She was already aware that he could be quite caring and passionate, especially if it was something he truly believed in. He was very genuine. Perhaps it was her own insecurities that had led her to believe that he was trying to prove something in the beginning. Or, perhaps it was his pride. They all knew that Enjolras could be quite prideful.

But, there was something in that kiss that had spoken true to her. It had touched her heart because, she had felt, his was in it, as well.

"Eponine."

She had nearly missed the quiet call of her name. But, recognizing the voice, she whirled around to greet it, finding Marius hidden in one of the shadows. He had never presented himself in such a way before. It had always been her seeking him.

"Marius," she breathed, her hand going to her heart. "You startled me."

"I do apologize about that," he said rather monotone.

He stepped out of the darkness so that she could better see him. The look on his face was stony, and the small smile on his lips seemed forced. She had never seen him with such a strange expression on his face before.

"Is everything all right, Marius?" she asked, taking a step toward him, afraid that he would respond in the negative.

"Yes, I suppose."

She breathed a sigh of relief.

Marius glanced away, obviously discontent about something. "Well, actually, I am rather concerned about you, if you must know," he confessed, disgruntled.

"Concerned about me?" She sought to clarify what he had said, her heart racing. He had never revealed that he thought about her. She had only ever dreamed that he might. "Why would you be concerned about me?"

Where she may have felt overjoyed at the idea of him allowing her into his thoughts, she was met with more of a fleeting glee and then contentedness. Nothing more.

"Eponine," he stated, looking her directly in the eye, "I don't think Enjolras' intentions toward you are pure."

It was so blunt that it took her off guard. Immediately she stepped backward, feeling attacked. The smile ran from her face and a small blush crept to her cheeks. He was approaching very personal territory, which she wasn't entirely convinced that she was prepared for him to enter. She grew self-conscious, having to break his stare to peer safely down at the dirty ground.

"Oh," she said quietly. "Why would you say that? I didn't even think you knew."

"Yes, I was rather surprised at his confession the other day. In fact, this entire relationship between you two is very confusing."

Eponine thought back to Enjolras and her doubts began to grow again. She hated having such a feeling, but she couldn't help it. Especially, assisted by Marius' words. Her feelings for Marius, which she had thought to have been replaced by Enjolras and his pursuits, seemed to come flooding back. She suddenly felt a strange devotion to him, which hadn't been there since Enjolras had approached her at Notre Dame. Perhaps he had a right to be concerned. Perhaps she was being silly. Perhaps, and this frightened her most of all, she had been taken under Enjolras' spell, only to be fooled by him in the end.

She scoffed, attempting to hide her true emotions and how hurt and confused she was suddenly feeling. "You could hardly say that we are in a relationship," she muttered.

Marius rubbed her upper arms consolingly, sensing her withdrawal. "But that is perfect, Eponine. That means you have no loyalty to him."

She shrugged, the spot where he touched her tingling. "I suppose. But, if you don't mind my curiosity, why do you think that he is being dishonest? I thought you were good friends. Did he say something to you?"

Marius frowned. "It is Enjolras we are talking about. He has claimed outright how against romance and anything related to it he is. It is only logical that this is just a game to him—that _you_ are just a game." He tried to study her face, but her head remained bowed, making it impossible. After a pause, though, he continued. "Don't tell me, Eponine, that you have fallen for him. Don't tell me that you have been fooled by him."

Eponine ripped herself out of his grip, spinning away. She was rather angry at this point. She just wasn't positive if she was upset at Marius, at Enjolras, or at herself. "What if I have? What if I've allowed myself to believe everything that he says is true? Would that be such a bad thing? It is not as if you, Marius, were ever concerned about me before. I was always there, always behind you. What makes now any different?"

Marius wrapped his arms around her. She was grateful that her back was turned to him in that moment or else he would have seen the blush completely overcome her face and her resolve shatter to pieces. In that moment of silence where his body warmth engulfed her and his particular scent invaded her nostrils, one tear rolled down her cheek, followed shortly by another then another.

"I am sorry," he whispered in her ear, his lips so close to her. "I am so sorry, Eponine. I should have paid more attention to you. I should have seen what was right in front of me the whole time. I wish I could save you from your loneliness."

Eponine turned slowly in his arms, facing him. She shook her head. "Marius, I am so confused. Why is this happening to me? I was content before—just being by your side. I just wanted to be there to make you happy. I wish I could simply go back to the time before all of this occurred. I wish I had never written that stupid note."

Marius brought one finger beneath her eye, wiping away the tears. "It is not your fault." He pulled her in, embracing her and holding her close to his chest. "Just come back to me," he cooed. He stroked her hair comfortingly, a small, victorious smile pulling up the edges of his lips.


	9. Truth

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Les Miserables, the novel or the musical, both of which are amazing.

 **Title:** The Note

 **Summary:** Enjolras has never been fond of the female affection thrown his way. Yet, he finds himself strangely compelled when he discovers an anonymous note in his pocket. Who was the one to put it there? And, when he discovers the truth, will he then be able to convince her that he is indeed the one the note was intended for?

 **Author's Note:** I foresee the end ahead. I believe it will happen in the next two chapters. I like the little twist that is in this chapter. I hope you all do, too. ^.^

 **Chapter 9 – Truth**

Enjolras strode with determination toward the Café Musain. The expression on his face had chased away a few acquaintances that had intended to stop him along the way. He wasn't about to be deterred. There was something he needed to do and it was foremost on his list. There was one person he needed to see and he wouldn't be sidetracked.

He went straight in, ignoring the looks and greetings from the other regulars and barmaids. He stomped toward the back table where his friends were gathered, exchanging jests and light conversation. His eyes locked on Marius, who was standing up enjoying a laugh.

"Enjolras," Grantaire said, seeing him approaching quite swiftly, "what are y-"

But anything else was cut off, for Enjolras instantly grabbed Marius by the front of his shirt and shoved him backward until a wall stopped his momentum.

"Enjolras, what are you doing?" Combeferre interjected, surprised by the sudden violence.

"What did you say to her?" Enjolras demanded, ignoring everyone else in the room.

"What are you talking about?" Marius asked, his hands up innocently.

"Eponine. What new information has come to light to make her want to reassess the situation?"

Marius shook his head. "What makes you think I said anything to her?"

Enjolras glared at him directly in the eye, boring into him. "Am I wrong?"

Marius sighed. "I had to make sure."

"Make sure of what, Marius?" There was the sound of exhaustion and defeat in his voice now, which had never been heard before. It was clear that he was tired of these games. So he released Marius and took a weary step back. "You know that you will always have a place in Eponine's heart. You will always be able to sway her. So why would you do this just when she is beginning to allow me in, as well? You never loved Eponine in the first place, not like I do. You already have someone else. So why?"

His words were moving, that was for certain. But, Enjolras had never had a problem with getting his point across in a passionate manner. He fell into an open chair, his legs unable to hold him up any longer. He began to have doubts himself now, since all the world seemed to be against Eponine and him.

Marius chuckled, but it merely sounded awkward in the intense silence. "You've got it all wrong, Enjolras."

"Stop being so cryptic," Enjolras replied miserably. "It doesn't become you."

Marius slid into a seat across from him and placed his hands on the table in a very business-like manner. "You want me to be straightforward? Well, here it goes. I do not have a romantic interest in Eponine. Despite my behavior, it was never my intention to attempt to interfere with your affairs."

"Then what has all of this been about?"

Enjolras was becoming more and more confused by the second. He had sought answers from Marius and instead he was getting more riddles. It was very frustrating.

"Did you ever question how that note got into your coat pocket?" Marius smiled slyly. "I know you, Enjolras. I know that was the first thing you did. Eponine denied all knowledge of it. She said it was meant for me—that she had put it in my pocket."

Enjolras shook his head in disbelief. "How do you know all of this? Did she tell you?"

"She didn't have to." Marius paused for dramatic effect, and to make sure that Enjolras understood all of this. "I'm the one that took the note Eponine had placed into my pocket and slipped it into yours."

Enjolras allowed this to sink in for a moment. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or even angrier than before. He had no clue what Marius' intentions were for doing such a thing. He felt a bit betrayed and very confused.

"Why?" he finally muttered, unable to go any further before receiving an answer. "Why would you do something like that?"

Marius chuckled again. "You should be thanking me, Enjolras! I brought you two together."

"Together, Marius?" Enjolras' voice began to steadily rise. "How can I even be sure what I feel for her is real now? It was all a set up. It was all a lie."

"It wasn't," Marius fought. "All I did was plant the seed. The rest of it was all you. Well, both of you."

Enjolras shook his head, not even wanting to look at his friend at the moment. "Does Eponine know?"

"No," he replied quietly. "You're the only one."

"Good. Don't." Enjolras sighed. "She doesn't need to know."

"But-" Marius was about to say, but Enjolras stood up swiftly, the chair screeching against the floorboards.

"No, Eponine is never to know," Enjolras said adamantly. "I don't want her to know that you arranged this. You set this up. And, she is not to know that I know these things."

"What?"

They heard a feminine gasp toward the main room of the café. Enjolras spun around, his heart racing in his chest. There she was, Eponine, standing within earshot, coming in at the worst possible time of the conversation. Her face had paled and her eyes looked horror-stricken, pained. Immediately Enjolras moved toward her, wanting to comfort her and explain everything that she might have just overheard.

"Eponine," he breathed, reaching a hand out to her.

"Don't touch me," she hissed, recoiling.

"What are you doing here?" he tried to play off.

Her eyes darted from Enjolras to Marius, as if they couldn't stand still. "I-I came to speak to Marius. I wanted to tell him face-to-face that I've had a change of heart. But…" She trailed off, obviously unsure.

"How much did you hear?" Marius asked softly.

"Enough."

"It's not what it sounds like," Enjolras insisted quickly, hoping to change her mind.

She met his eyes with a ferocity in her gaze, instantly causing him to fall silent. "Then what is it, Enjolras?" When he didn't immediately answer, intimidated by her look, she continued. "It sounds like I've been made a fool of, and it sounds like both of you knew." She sighed, wrapping her arms around herself. "Listen, this whole incident has been nothing but a mess. Just forget this ever happened."

She pivoted on her heel and instantly departed.

It wasn't until after she was gone from sight that Enjolras spun on Marius, scowling. "This is all your fault. Now she'll never know-"

"Know what, Enjolras?" Marius shot right back. "That your feelings are, in fact, genuine?"

Enjolras bowed his head, pondering. "Yes," he whispered. Without another word, he, too, exited the café.


	10. Words

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Les Miserables, the novel or the musical, both of which are amazing.

 **Title:** The Note

 **Summary:** Enjolras has never been fond of the female affection thrown his way. Yet, he finds himself strangely compelled when he discovers an anonymous note in his pocket. Who was the one to put it there? And, when he discovers the truth, will he then be able to convince her that he is indeed the one the note was intended for?

 **Author's Note:** So the next chapter will be the last. This is the second to last then, obviously. I wanted to try to make things right between everyone, but at the same time leave it a bit open-ended. I leave it up to the reader to decide what becomes of Marius and his little plots. Does he keep his friendships? Or does he lose Eponine and Enjolras in the process? I suppose that is not terribly important to this story. But maybe, just maybe, to another.

 **Chapter 10 – Words**

Eponine could always be found wandering the streets of Paris, but when she wanted to disappear, it wasn't difficult. She was basically invisible to begin with. And, at the moment, she really didn't mind. In fact, she would have preferred it if she could have just vanished from the world altogether.

She was confused and angry, but mostly hurt. She felt a betrayal unlike anything she had felt before. It was hard to come to terms with everything having been a lie. All that she had been told was fraudulent. All that she had felt had been empty. It had been fabricated and manipulated by the very people she had put her trust in.

She was still shocked that Marius had helped to orchestrate the whole thing. She had never thought that he would do something of this nature. She had been so devoted to him for so long. She thought that they had at least had a friendship, no matter how strange it might have seemed. But now, she wasn't so sure. Perhaps it had all been her imagination.

Eponine wrapped her arms around her thin body, frowning. She hadn't imagined that kiss, though. Her lips tingled every time she thought about it. And, Enjolras wasn't one to go about these silly games, even under the influence of his friends.

That was what she had been going to speak to Marius about. She had thought over everything he had said and had decided that it didn't seem right. Though it had only been a short time, she thought that she had come to learn more about Enjolras than she ever had before. She had concluded in her mind that he was sincere, or at least she hoped so. Either way, she had gone to the café to tell Marius that she didn't care. She would try to give her heart to Enjolras.

She didn't know why Enjolras had popped into her head. Well, she did. His betrayal had actually hurt her the most. She felt the pang in her heart. It was as if it had shattered to pieces. She felt only coldness and emptiness now. Well, beneath the weight of complete and utter sadness, that is.

"I thought I might find you here."

Eponine tensed at the voice. It had only been earlier that day that she had overheard the conversation between Marius and Enjolras. She wasn't ready to see or speak to either one of them yet. She was still trying to figure things out herself. She was still trying to cope.

"I really don't want to see you right now, Marius," she responded. She stared into the churning waters beneath the bridge they stood on.

"I know. But, I really need to explain everything to you."

Eponine sighed, mustering up her courage. "So you were the one to put my note into Enjolras' pocket," she accused, whirling around.

Marius stood strong. "Yes, you are correct. I knew it was yours. I've been seeing your handwriting for a long time. I slipped it into his coat pocket before I left that night."

She shook her head. "Why? Why would you do such a thing?"

"I wanted to help you."

"Help me?" she said exasperatedly. "How was this supposed to help me? This has all been a lie. I don't even know what is real anymore."

"It was all real," Marius corrected passionately.

"No, it wasn't!" she fired back. "It was some kind of sick play directed by you! This is my life, Marius. I'm not some kind of puppet that will bend to your will."

There was a pause of silence. Then Marius smiled slowly, pleased. It took her aback, but also irked her. She believed that there was no reason he should be smiling like that. Their conversation did not warrant it.

"Why are you smiling like that?"

"That's it," he said quietly.

"That's what? What are you talking about?"

He moved closer to her, and she, in turn, recoiled. "That passion, that fire, that intensity. Your feelings are true, Eponine."

"Well, of course they are. I could never speak to you again, Marius," she insisted rather dumbly. She blinked a couple of times, trying to come to terms with her poor comeback, turning back toward the dark water.

"That's not all, though, Eponine," he told her, sliding up next to her. "You know, deep down, that there is no way I could have forced everything that had happened—that you had felt."

She shook her head, her little hand curling into a fist. "I don't know what to believe anymore. That's the problem. I don't know what was real and what was not. I don't know that I can trust you after this. Or, for that matter, Enjolras."

"You know, he wasn't aware of what I had done," he said quietly.

"But how do I know that? You could be telling me another lie to work things in your favor, Marius. Do you now understand the position you've put me in? Do you now understand how foolish you've made me look?"

He paused. "I-I'm sorry. I really am. I never meant to hurt anyone."

"Well, it's too late." Eponine sighed, looking at the waves, but not actually seeing them.

"You realize now that this is precisely why Enjolras did not want you to find out. He just wanted to protect you from the truth, so that you wouldn't get hurt. He said he had made such progress with you that learning of my involvement would only cause you to regress and to respond, well, just like this."

"Lucky for him it is not his job to protect me," she mumbled coldly.

It was difficult for Marius to think that he was getting anywhere with her. She was so closed off to everything that he had to say. She couldn't even see beyond his involvement to recognize how Enjolras truly felt—how she truly felt. It was frustrating and difficult. But, then again, he knew that it wasn't an easy task he had set up for himself.

"Eponine," Marius began calmly, "think back to that very first night Enjolras had showed up in my place."

"I had been expecting you," she said quietly.

"Exactly. But he showed up instead. This whole thing could have ended there. I merely gave him the invitation, but both you and he initiated the relationship. Both of you allowed it to continue forward. At any time you could have stopped it."

She turned her head away, slightly pouting. He was making sense, but she was so stubborn and so angry that it was difficult for her to think rationally. She simply did not want to give him the benefit of the doubt. She did not want to agree with him or let him off the hook.

"I met with him alone, as I did you," Marius explained, sounding as if he didn't even want to say what he was about to say. "It was tense, to say the least. I thought I might lose my best friend that night. In fact, I'm still not sure what will happen come morning."

"Get on with it, Marius."

"No matter what I said, he defended you to the end. It was quite clear in that moment just how much he cared for you—truly, deeply cared for you. I wish you could have seen it. I needed to make sure that you two were serious, and that both of you were acting of your own accord." He shook his head. "Enjolras has never been the kind to let emotions get the better of him. Yet, have you ever seen him act so scattered, so confused in the past months?"

Eponine hesitated then shrugged. "I suppose not."

"Could it not be because his feelings for you are real?"

She didn't say a word. She wouldn't confirm or deny her thoughts on the topic. It was not Marius' business to know, nor had it ever been.

"Could that mean that whatever you felt for him was real, too? _Is_ real?"

She hated him and his suggestions; and, yet, he was somehow getting through to her. She still couldn't look at him. She didn't know when, if ever, she'd be able to forgive him. But, right now was not that time. Even though she may have softened to his words, her trust in him would take longer to return.

Marius leaned in and whispered in her ear, "He had no part in the note, Eponine. He was merely trying to protect you."

Eponine wasn't sure if seconds had passed or minutes after he had said that, but when she turned toward where Marius had been standing, he was gone. She took a moment, wondering if she had imagined his presence and everything he had said. But then she figured she was just being silly.

Of course he had been there, trying to coerce her and set things right.

And, of course she now had a lot to think about.


	11. The Long-Awaited Kiss

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Les Miserables, the novel or the musical, both of which are amazing.

 **Title:** The Note

 **Summary:** Enjolras has never been fond of the female affection thrown his way. Yet, he finds himself strangely compelled when he discovers an anonymous note in his pocket. Who was the one to put it there? And, when he discovers the truth, will he then be able to convince her that he is indeed the one the note was intended for?

 **Author's Note:** So this is it. I want to thank everyone for tuning in and for giving feedback. It is a rather cheesy ending, but I suppose there was no other way for this one to go. I do hope that it is rather satisfactory, though. Anyway, here it is. Again, I want to thank everyone for the support. ^.^

 **Chapter 11 – The Long-Awaited Kiss**

Enjolras sat inside the Café Musain in the early afternoon on an otherwise pleasant day. The weather wasn't something to be enjoyed, though. For him, it was just another nuisance. He was drinking a concoction stronger than the wine that was typically served, something he had been indulging in as of late. There were many things he brooded on, as well as many things he just wanted to forget and never be burdened with again. The drink seemed to help him in some aspect.

Sighing, he got up again to relieve his bladder. He didn't know how long he had been sitting there, but the looks he was getting from the other customers, though few as they were, gave him a hint. It didn't help, either, that his hair was a mess and his clothes were stained and in disarray. He couldn't find the energy to care, though. Not after he had lost Eponine.

It had been so strange and so sudden to discover that he actually cared for her. But once he had recognized and accepted that feeling, his world had changed. Never before had any woman received his affections, so his pursuits had been new for him, as well. The devastation came from losing his best friend and the only woman he had ever learned to care for. It was also due to the rather unwarranted opposition to these new and wonderful emotions that he had never experienced before.

Even learning the truth, he had only ever been concerned for Eponine's feelings. He hadn't wanted her to find out because he knew it would hurt her. Her ties to Marius were deep, but he had hoped and even thought that perhaps she had had a change of heart. Now, though, she would have reverted so far from him that it would be impossible for him to ever get her back. And that was the worst part of all.

Finished, Enjolras prepared to return to his seat. He tugged on his white shirt and open vest, hardly caring about his appearance, but only doing so to straighten it out for better comfort. Then he ambled dejectedly back to the table. He slumped down into the seat, hesitating with a hand on his half-empty cup. He stared at it, unseeing and unsatisfied.

All he could think about was her. All he could see was her. It was agony, to say the least. Yet, he had finally fallen victim to love and all of its demons. He didn't really know where to go from there. He didn't know how long before he returned to his previous self, or if that was even possible. He didn't know if he would be consumed by another, stronger emotion and all of this heartache would be swallowed up. It could be that these feelings of utter sadness and longing would never go away, though, and he would be stuck pining after Eponine until the end of his days.

That wasn't him, though. But, he had also thought that love was beyond him.

Groaning over the confusion battling in his brain, Enjolras downed the rest of the liquid in the cup then, after removing his jacket from the back of the seat, punched his arms into its sleeves. Perhaps a stroll would help to clear his mind, though the bright sunlight was the last thing he really wanted to experience. He stood up and straightened out the red fabric.

That was when he felt it and stopped.

Slipping his hand into the coat pocket, he extracted a small folded note. His heart skipped a beat as he began to open it slowly. His mind recalled the very first note that had begun this crazy adventure. Perhaps, this one was the same. Or, his more pessimistic side added in, it was another trick from Marius.

In any case, he read:

 _Our spot at Notre Dame. This is far from over._

He got the definite feeling that this time this note was meant specifically for him. He was still unsure if Eponine wrote it or if it had been Marius attempting to pull the two together still. Either way, he figured, he would go there. He wouldn't expect some kind of happy ending, though. He would only expect to find Marius in wait.

xXx

The square held some couples enjoying the view of the cathedral and the nice weather. He glanced about, but he failed to see Marius or even Eponine for that matter. He frowned, wondering if perhaps he had been tricked. He was feeling rather paranoid these days, after having learned that his best friend had set him up.

Enjolras could feel the heat from the sun through his long-sleeved shirt, vest, and wool coat. He longed for the cool shade of the café. He would have been better off staying put instead of giving this new note a chance. He should have known better. The sight of the happy couples made him frown. He turned around, about to head back, when he heard a voice that stopped him in his tracks.

"So you came here after all," Eponine said, approaching from some unseen location.

He turned in her direction, trying to keep his expression unreadable and attempting to keep in mind that anything could still happen. He didn't want to drop his guard because he was afraid of getting hurt and disappointed again. However, he couldn't deny that the sight of Eponine caused his heart to flutter with hope.

Enjolras shrugged. "Call me a masochist, but I had to see if this note was any truer than the first."

"Marius had no part in this one, I can honestly tell you that." She hesitated, though. "Well, I suppose he did offer to deliver it safely into your care, but other than that he played no part in it."

"I suppose that is a relief to hear." He sighed. "Eponine, why did you bring me here?"

The small smile on her face faded, and her gaze dropped to the ground between them. "This whole situation has gotten completely out of hand. I'm sure you can understand that it is terribly difficult to know what to believe anymore."

His hope began to ebb. He figured she would only want to forget that anything between them had only been a fabrication of their imagination. It would be best to simply go back to the way things were before. He had to admit that he was disappointed. He had been hoping that there would still be some way to work things out between the two of them, even if it meant starting over.

"So Marius explained everything to me."

Enjolras crossed his arms over his chest, upset. "I tried to do the same, but you wouldn't listen. I should have known that only Marius would get through to you."

She glared at him. "Don't think that I he would have any more sway over me than you. You have to understand how confused I was and how betrayed I felt. You must have felt it too."

He eased up, for he certainly had felt the same. He allowed her to continue.

"He met with me and told me that it had been his plot from the beginning and you were merely a pawn like I was. Basically we were both led to believe in something that had been nothing but a set up."

Enjolras studied her longingly, ready to try again. "Eponine, please don't think that it was all untrue. I-" he whispered. But she held up a hand to silence him.

"Yet, love is not something you can force upon someone," she admitted, a small blush on her cheeks.

Enjolras' heart leapt. Suddenly, all of the doubts he had had seemed to disappear. He was reassured with her reluctance and her sincerity. He resisted the urge to grab her in his arms. He knew that she wasn't quite there yet. She was still laying everything out for him that he might have questioned before. She was showing him the truth—how she really felt.

"Throughout all of this, Enjolras, I have been trying to deny my true feelings. I attempted to find any excuse I could in order to push you away, but you kept coming back. You never gave up. Finally, though, when I overheard you and Marius, I figured that that was it. It seemed to explain everything, and I didn't have to worry about getting hurt. But…" She hesitated, wrapping her arms around her frame, hugging herself for comfort.

"Eponine," Enjolras replied in a sigh of relief, placing his arms on her shoulders, as if that would help her understand, "you know that everything I told you, everything I felt was real—is real."

She nodded sheepishly. "I do. I believe I do." She sighed. "So, I think I must apologize to you, Enjolras."

He shook his head. "Apologize? Apologize for what?"

"For suspecting you of being anything but sincere. For putting you through…well…everything."

"Eponine, there is nothing that you need to apologize for. There is nothing that you need to ask forgiveness from me. All I wish is, from what you've said, that perhaps now I might have a piece of your heart."

Eponine scoffed. "A piece of it? Enjolras, I don't know how it happened, but you have all of it."

Enjolras couldn't resist any longer. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close and embracing her. He closed his eyes softly. "I didn't know it until now, but I believe that is all I want. I just want you."

Her arms traveled reluctantly up his back, wrapping gently around him. The longer they embraced, however, the tighter her grasp became, before she immersed herself completely. She closed her eyes, as well, giving herself over to him. She let his scent fill her nostrils, though it was heavily overlaid with alcohol. She didn't even care in that moment.

"So," Enjolras hesitated, "what do we do now?"

"I'm not entirely sure," she admitted. "We are both new to this." She took a step back, a sly smile on her lips. "But, I suppose I can think of something. And this one is most definitely meant for you."

Eponine slid her arms around his neck, pulling in close to him, and laid her lips gently upon his. It didn't take long for him wrap his arms around her waist and hold her against his body. His lips tingled with the very touch of her, and he never wanted it to end.

For that moment, there was nobody else around. Though it had taken a while, they had finally found each other, and they had finally found love.

"Eponine," Enjolras whispered, tearing himself just inches away from her, though it pained him to do so, "I do have just one request."

"Yes," she urged, just as breathy.

"No more notes," he said with laughter in his voice.

"Agreed." And, she resumed the long-awaited kiss.


End file.
